


The White Rain

by ShannynFaucheux



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: 1920s, Also please remember whatever happens in this fic there is still reincarnation at the end, Buddhism, Flowers, Haiku, Have I mentioned reincarnation, I don't know how I can sell you this fic, Love, Love Story, M/M, Music, Poetic, Prostitution, Rakugo, Reincarnation, Shamisen, Suicide, Symbolism, Taisho Era, but it's not what you think it is, god I wish I just wrote porn instead, look-, pls, y'all are passing this fic but it deserves better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannynFaucheux/pseuds/ShannynFaucheux
Summary: ''- Tell me, rakugoka-san, when did the first leaf fall? '' On that, the storyteller joined his hands on his bent thighs and answered, his smile attracting even more light from the moon;‘’- It was the third day of my apprenticeship. As a minarai, I was told to sit and watch the master storytellers who were going to be on the stage that day. But then I saw you in the crowd, and the first leaf fell..''The love story between a young rakugo artist and a male shamisen player; and how the time intertwined to make their story eternal.





	The White Rain

**Author's Note:**

> You saw the tags, this story has it's tragic aspects but the ending is really nice. The idea came to me while I was practicing oud. I really loved how it turned out, just.. you gotta trust the author and don't give up on her. ( and her nonexistent English skills ) :'D I honestly tried to stay in character and kept the main qualities of the characters in (like Shiki's prideful nature). There were still times where I inevitably had to fail a little because of this work's nature. But please keep in mind that a very huge portion of this story tells the characters' 'previous lifes', before they are reincarnated.  
For the writing aspect; This one is written with my usual 'a little closed' style, but everything comes together as the story continues. Finally, I hope people will enjoy this as much as I truly did. Comments are appreciated but I am a little scared of the feedback this time :'D  
My boxing match is literally tomorrow so I gotta sleep a little :D I will do a one more proof reading hopefully after the match lol.
> 
> Vocabulary/Notes;
> 
> 1- Rakugo; Is traditional Japanese art of storytelling. A rakugoka is 'a storyteller'. He can use a stage name and he brings a folding fan, and a hand cloth to the stage to use when telling the story. Before the rakugo-ka goes on the stage, 'ohayashi-san' ( group of three women shamisen players) plays the three stringed trad. instrument called 'shamisen'. A shamisen's pick is called "bachi".
> 
> 2 - Chrysanthemum Flower; In traditional Japanese culture, a 'chrysanthemum tryst' symbolises a private, romantic meeting between two male lovers. 
> 
> 3 - Haiku; Japanese poetry. Except for the last one, all of the haiku used in this story are from old haiku masters. Please remember there are usually more than one translation for these poems and English is to blame tbh. The last haiku is mine. 
> 
> 4- Hitori; Hitori means alone in Japanese. But you'll see a word play I did at the beginning. Don't worry, it's all clear. If it's not, just throw a comment and I'll gladly explain <3 ( *O-kyaku-san-tachi: Dear guests (dear audience) (**Hitori-no-rakugoka-san; Could mean '' a lonely storyteller, or the storyteller named 'Hitori' )
> 
> 5-6-7 Osakazuki Tree; Japanese maple tree.  
Engawa; Veranda in traditional Japanese houses.  
Minarai; The one who watches and learns. An entry level rakugo student.  
Kampo medicine; Traditional Japanese herbal medicine. 
> 
> 8- O-tsukare-sama; You say this after someone finishes a task or work to congratulate them and thank them. For example, our kanji professor says this to us to thank our work and dedication we put into our education, and we say it back to him to thank for his time that he has separated to teach us kanji. It's like ; '' You are tired, and we appreciate the work you did and eventually became tired because of it.'' god.. Japanese is hard to explain in English..  
Finally, here is a playlist; https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrgV6zw3mbHYuTxbBhu5N68N0o4qlyklc

The White Rain

_Taisho Era, Japan_

_1920, Early Days of Summer in the city of Kyoto;_

Whispers of excitement among the audience was filling the small theatre where the tranquil harmony of the light-coloured bamboo stage was being broken only by the purple cushion where the _rakugo-ka_; or the rakugo artist was expected to sit shortly. An apprentice carefully lifted the long calligraphy paper on a stand to reveal the stage name of the rakugo-ka_;_

_Hitori_, but with the kanji’s _fire(hi, __火__)_ and _bird(tori, __鳥__)_; This wordplay was very in place for the young prodigy whose eyes of a strange red colour have already gained him a large audience starting from his days of being a disciple. Just as in the second meaning of his name, he was now by himself upon the sudden death of his teacher. With a quick wit always sharp and enchanting like his wire-woven voice, he’s been succesfully entertaining the hearts of the rakugo audience in Kyoto city…

In the backstage, rhythmic melodies of the shamisen players’ instruments merged into the sound of the rakugo-ka’s wooden sandals as he started walking to the stage. He was wearing a gray kimono and carrying a fire red folding fan, color coordinated with the detailing of the belt on his attire.

The shamisen players bowed slightly without breaking the melody they were playing, and he gave a nod of his head in return. But as always, his eyes lingered longer on the fourth musician at the far right; always greeting him appropriately, but never looking at him. _A male shamisen player at the backstage of a rakugo theater. The rakugoka_ was sure he’s never seen him smile before, despite all of them practically living in the theater where its reason of being was to make people laugh.

But to unbind this strange _aura_ around him, he needed to come closer to him. Which was exactly what he’s been planing to do after today’s show.

A storyteller’s purpose is to fill the audience’s heart with laughter and joy; But at the same time, _to make them ponder and reflect upon little details of life that are generally overlooked behind the curtain called ‘formalities’_. Maybe this is why a rakugo play would start with _m__akura_; Where the storyteller tells an anecdote or talks about a personal experience before leading the show to the _h__onmon_; _the story_, or the narrative itself. Every rakugo master’s _makura_ was unique, but maybe _Hitori’s_ was the most unique one among them all;

After greeting the audience appropriately, Hitori put his folding fan in front of the purple cushion where he sat on his knees. After that, he put his one hand onto the other on his gray kimono. With a characteristic grin on his face, he traveled his eyes inside the room to take in the atmosphere of the audience before starting his _makura_;

Hitori would choose a topic consisting of _one word_, and would give his opinions on it. Today, the topic was;

‘’- _Aura_. O-kyaku-san-tachi; Some people walk with a scary aura around them, and for some, their aura is so shaky that you’d know in the first glance they’re fragile souls. But the most interesting of them all, I think, are the people radiating this utterly _serene_ aura around them. Only, they are usually so quiet and withdrawn that you’d think _the Sumida River_ is passing between you and that person, even though; you would be standing right face to face. ‘’ Hitori lifted his brows and opened his palms in a surprised manner before returning them to their initial position. Audience gave a laugh, and he continued;

‘’- But remember, their serenity might not always come from a peaceful heart; instead, they could be living hell on earth, but they wouldn’t show! Why? Because they are _serene!_\- ‘’ Another echo of laughter, and it was now the time for the _‘honmon’_;

_‘’- When spring comes to the city of Edo, to be the first one to hear the song of a nightingale is truly a matter of boast and pride.. It is believed that whoever hears the nightingale first, that person’s business would go well and he would be prosperous for that particular year…’’ _

* * *

_‘’- O-tsukare sama deshita, Hitori-san. ‘’ _ After the play, he was wiping his forehead to a red cloth which he also used on the stage when one of the disciples came and offered him water. Thanking for the water, he drank some before walking towards the chief shamisen player currently putting her instrument into its case.

With her snow-white hair, she was the eldest of the four musicians. _Hitori _knew she was the instructor of the two other girls in the group. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure where the male shamisen player learned to play with such _elegance_ that he was accepted to the theatre. _The storyteller_ only knew his name; _Haruya, from the spring; _and some rumours, which were resultant on his _long-desired_ decision to come closer to him;

-‘’ Hanako-san. May I take a minute of your time? ‘’ Seeing the rakugoka, the eldest musician gave a sincere smile which accentuated the lines near her lips, and bowed;  
-‘’ O-tsukare-sama deshita, Hitori-san. It was a great performance as always.‘’ Accepting her compliment with a bow of his own, Hitori gently lead her to the more solitary corner of the backstage, as the rest of the musicians were also preparing to leave;  
-‘’ Could you tell Haruya-san to come to the resting room? There is a matter I want to talk to him about. ‘’ Uttering an _‘of course’_, she nodded and turned to walk in slow steps towards the said shamisen player checking the strings on his instrument to determine if he needed to change them for the next play or not. Meanwhile, the rakugoka quietly withdrew to the other room.

_‘’- Haruya-kun? ‘’_ Seeing the elder musician, Haruya stopped whatever he was doing, and turned to give a short bow;

‘’- _Hai_, Hanako-san, what is it? ‘’ _Just in case_, she leaned to Haruya’s shoulder and spoke in a discreet tone of voice. The other also leaned in;

‘’- Hitori-san told me he had something to talk to you about, please go visit him in the resting room after you put away your instrument. ‘’ After she drew back, Haruya gave her a quick nod of his head to imply he understood. His light-brown eyes traveled on the floor of the backstage as he thought what could be the reason of the invitation.

He then turned and carefully placed the shamisen once belonged to his mother, into it’s hard case, and put the _‘bachi’_ next to it before closing the case and carrying it with him to the resting room.

* * *

He came by the room and asked permission before entering; ‘’- Hitori-san; Hanako-san told me you had something to talk to me about…’’ He then heard the other’s distinct voice inviting him in, and dragged the thin door open. He closed the door behind him and waited after giving a bow.

The rakugoka was sitting cross-legged, there was a book in front of him, and couple candles with their shaky lights illuminating the room. He lifted his head and looked at the other. As always, _the musician’s_ eyes were on the ground, but he knew his attention was on him.

The rakugoka recited a haiku belonged to _Basho_; ‘’_\- Ame no hi ya, seken no aki o_-‘’ But then he stopped before the last line and waited.

‘’- _sakai choo._ ‘’ Haruya completed the haiku; ‘’- Isn’t it? ‘’ The other gave a grin, and it reflected into his voice;

‘’- Exactly- ‘’ He then closed the book and put it onto the stack of thin books at the far corner of the room; ‘’- At first glance, one would understand _‘sakai choo’_, as _‘boundary town, or a border town ‘, _right? _But I wonder if Haruya-san knows the meaning behind the word-play on the last part? ‘’_

He knew. _‘ A rainy day, the autumn world, of a border town. ‘ _ The kanji _sakai _meant border, and _choo_ was town. But _‘sakai choo’ _was also the name of the theater district of old Edo_. Because of it’s questionable reputation_, the district was placed at the edge of the town. Thus making the haiku;

_‘ A rainy day, the autumn world, a border with the pleasure quarter. ‘ _Haruya’s fingers tightened around the handle of the shamisen case, but his expression remained unchanged; ‘’- Yes. I know about it. But I am sure you didn’t ask for me just to discuss a Basho haiku? ‘’

_ -‘’ _I have something busying my mind, Haruya-san. ‘’  
-‘’ What is it? ‘’ Even though he wasn’t looking at him, the shamisen player could feel the rakugo-ka’s pungent eyes on himself; taking every move of the short, coal black eyelashes veiling crystalline eyes, and high-cheekbones even more appearent under dim candle light, thin short hair..  
-‘’ You see, we’re in a rakugo theatre, but I’ve never seen you laugh, even smile for that matter. This might sound silly, but I can’t help but to question my abilities, seeing you like that.. ‘’ He said and made a move to stand up. Haruya answered in the meantime;  
-‘’ To be completely honest, I don’t laugh much. But you’re the only rakugo-ka I truly enjoy, Hitori-san. I like your innovator style and approach, but especially your _makura_\- ‘’ Hitori stood right in front of him, Haruya continued without breaking his gaze from the floor; _‘’- I especially liked tonight’s makura. ‘’_

Now from this distance, the storyteller could smell a floral, but also earthy essence resembling wet woods after rain, coming from the other. He spoke, the edge in his voice deepening; ‘’- Yes, _aura_ _and serenity..-‘’_ Very slowly, he brought his thin, pale fingers to the edge of the other’s dark blue kimono sleeve; ‘’- I was inspired by you. You’re a clever man, Haruya-san, you understood, right? ‘’ When there was no reply, he added one more thing;

_‘’- I’ve been hearing certain rumours.‘’_ Hitori watched the movement of the other’s adam’s apple as he gulped, then talked without losing _that_ serenity of his manner;

‘’- We’re in a theatre with all sorts of people, Hitori-san, and people talk. Their mouths aren’t bags that we can tie and close, right? ‘’

‘’- Is that so..’’ The rakugo-ka murmured as he slowly brought the musician’s right sleeve upwards, his palm now on the exposed arm. Haruya closed his eyes and lowered his head even more.

Hitori’s fingers brushed the tattoo on the other’s arm; _A red chrysanthemum_, with it’s stem in a long line resembling a vein. The tattoo was fine, what made the storyteller’s thin brows furrow were the marks around the flower;

_‘’- A __chrysanthemum tryst, huh__.. ‘’ The tattoo meant that the shamisen player was a hidden ghost from the ‘sakai-choo’, and the rumours were true. _Hitori lifted his long black lashes and spoke in a firm voice; ‘’- Will you _please_ look into my eyes, Haruya-san? ‘’

‘’- I am afraid that would be very inappropriate. ‘’ Was the answer. On that, the hand on his arm lowered to his wrist, and the rakugo-ka wrapped his fingers tightly around it;

‘’- _You’re_ talking about appropriatness?_ ‘’ The master of words_ knew _that_ would make the musician _act_, and it did. Haruya looked at him, and he had such a deep gaze that you would think he held an entire river inside his being. Hitori’s expression softened and a little smile placed itself to his lips as he listened to the other;

From that point, Haruya didn’t pull his eyes from the other’s. _He resembled a white wolf; pristine, and ready to protect at whatever cost_; ‘’- I don’t have much to be ashamed for, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. ‘’ He lifted his face even more; ‘’- I have a sister whose lungs are unfortunately _very_ weak, and my resources are _very _limited. I am just a shamisen player at the back of a rakugo-ka, _a male one_ on top of that. So if you were to let the word out Hitori-san-‘’

-‘’_ Izaya_. My name is Izaya. ‘’ On that, the shamisen player’s brows slightly clenched in a perplexed manner;  
-‘’ That is.. certainly an unusal sounding name. But I have to say it doesn’t lack any beauty. ‘’ The last part left him in a breath that was sudden. _Izaya _nodded;  
-‘’ Yes, just like you. _A male shamisen player_ _at the back of a rakugo-ka;_ Unusual, but doesn’t lack any beauty, nor talent. ‘’ After that, Haruya slowly drew his wrist back, and Izaya unwrapped his fingers. Bringing the instrument case in front of him, Haruya connected his hands together;  
-‘’ If you don’t let the word out, therefore didn’t put me in a difficult position, I am ready to return your _interest_, Izaya-san. _In any way you might want_. ‘'

When the bright eyes once again left him, Izaya turned and walked to the right side of the room and dragged the little wooden window open. The candles trembled with the fresh summer wind seeping into the room. Izaya placed his palms onto the edges of the window and took a deep breath in before opening his eyes to the night; ‘’- Tonight’s moon is such a graceful one, don’t you think? It would be a waste if we let it pass our souls just like that. So, would you accompany me to a moon-viewing tonight? ‘’ The other’s reply came right afterwards;

-‘’ However you want. ‘’  
-‘’ Please bring your shamisen too; I’d love to listen. ‘’

On that, Haruya gave one last bow and as always, followed the etiquette precisely; _‘’- _Then I will be waiting under the _osakazuki tree_. _O-tsukare-sama deshita, Hitori-san. ‘’_

After he left, the rakugo-ka turned his eyes to the full moon and realised; _Just like the sand being pulled by the waves, he was hopelessly drawn to this talented gentleman with secrets lingering at the border doors of life.._

* * *

There was only one _osakazuki tree_ nearby, and it was on a hill a ten minute distance to the city. For him; _osakazuki_ was a tree of magic; In summer, the wide leaves would be in a bright shade of green, but with autumn, they would turn into a fiery, magnificent red. _His _figure could easily be selected under the bright-white moonlight. He was waiting with his shamisen, likely his only true companion.

They sat across each other under the embracing arms of the tree and were surrounded by the singing of cicadas.

Haruya gave a seated bow, then prepared his instrument. After a brief tuning made entirely by ear, he waited with the oak _bachi_ in his right hand. A wind blew, they listened to the sound of the leaves rustle against each other.

The storyteller asked;

-‘’ Do you sing, Haruya-san? ‘’ The other traveled his fingers on the strings without plucking them, they accompanied to the rustle of the nature;  
-‘’ It’s been a long time since I’ve lost the ability to sing. ‘’

_‘ Shame..’ The rakugoka thought. Turning his head to left, he recited quietly to the tree; ‘When spring comes to the city of Edo, to be the first one to hear the song of a nightingale is truly a matter of boast and pride.. ‘_

‘’- Then how about an improvisation- ‘’ He lifted his index finger to the moon; ‘’- Here, is the greatest inspiration. ‘’

A nod, and Haruya lifted his eyes to the night-sky. He hit the _bachi _to the strings of the shamisen, in a rhythmic pace first. His gaze sharpened. He improvised a piece right there, without breaking his eyes from the moon; and it was breath-taking the way he looked at the moon; As if it was something ominous, a killer of hopes. Pain, dripped from the tips of his fingers grazing the silk strings, and the wind put its head down in shame.

_He silenced the earth_; the cicadas didn’t dare to raise their voices for the next five, maybe fifteen minutes after he was finished. It was a hard thing to put a rakugoka at loss for words; and at that moment, _Hitori was terrorised against the sound of pure beauty._

When the other started crawling closer to him like a curious child trying to understand a feral animal, Haruya calmly put the shamisen back into its case next to him. He didn’t close the case, and didn’t move an inch as Izaya loosened up the belt on his kimono. He watched his hands shake faintly as he slipped the blue fabric down onto his elbows;

_An abrupt rain started falling down then. The kind of rain that would drizzle down from one’s lashes, and gets stuck to the crevice of his upper lip. _Izaya jumped onto him and wrapped his arms around his bare shoulders in a weighty hug. Haruya huffed a laugh;

‘’- Thank you, I needed that. ‘’ _A short streak of lightening fell, _Haruya smiled and lifted his own hands waiting quietly on his knees_; ‘’- Ah, I see.. Maybe I am not the only one who needs it, huh, rakugoka-san? ‘’ _He hugged him back and the leaves returned to their melody. Haruya closed his eyes and spoke to calm down the young soul holding onto him like autumn leaves hold onto trees;

‘’- _These gentlemen_, rakugoka-san, they truly love. They don’t waste an inch of one’s body when it comes to love. ‘’ He sighed deeply and wondered _‘why a rakugoka, of all people, has to shed tears for me? ‘ _;

He lifted his long fingers and threaded them through the black hair that was softer and slightly longer than his;‘’- I know in an another life, I will be the ruinous one, and not the one who gets ruined. _I pray to Buddha for the life where I will be the corrupt guy, rakugoka-san._ ‘’ _The remorseless one._

Izaya roared, and his vocal chords shivered against the musician’s skin; _‘’- Who? ‘’ __The rest of the question couldn't leave his clenched teeth. _

_‘’ - Human. ‘’ The musician answered the question, and it was his turn to recite an haiku, but it came out as a prayer;_

_‘ Taku hodo wa, kaze ga mote-kuru, ochiba kana. ‘_

_‘ The wind brings me, as many dry leaves, as I have need of fire. ‘_

* * *

It was a rare thing for the rakugo-ka to affect the audience’s atmosphere rather than the other way around. He’s been silent on the stage for the past five minutes, folding his red fan and then unfolding it in a mediative sequence. When he had _the word_, he folded the red fan one last time, and started his _makura_;

A dangerous smile appeared on his lips; ‘’- _Secrets._ O-kyaku-san-tachi; We all have secrets consisting of sins maybe, or _unspeakable desires_, correct? The night before, I’ve been pondering under an _osakazuki_ tree_; _and then_ a kami_ showed me his face and blessed me. _I stared at his red-chrysanthemum flowers,_ dear guests, and found myself weeping over his shoulder. And a thought passed me-‘’

What if one were to learn these secrets of people and sell them? Secrets; _Maybe such as an aikido master_ defiling the nature of his very practice; _Love_. Do not harm when unneeded; control _yourself_, and not others, _love_!- ‘’ He opened the fan in one sudden movement, startled the audience, and then hid the right side of his face with it;

‘’- Today, I would like to tell the story of _the Shinigami._ ‘’

A rakugo-ka could tell the story of _the Shinigami_ in three ways; One, he could make it light-hearted and fun. Two; He could tell the story distributing the fun and fright in a balanced way_. Three;_ _He could turn it into a horror story._ All of them were acceptable, but the first two choices were _suitable_. Izaya truly had the talent to perform the most humorous Shinigami the Kyoto audience has ever watched. But from the little window at the backstage where he stood and watched, Haruya could see his intention was the opposite. This was horror, and he himself was to blame.

As he listened to Izaya’s narration, he grazed his hand on his right arm to allay the goosbumps there.

Hanako-san stood next to him; ‘’- My.. he must have gotten very angry at something.. ‘’

* * *

After the show, _the rakugo-ka_ found _the shamisen player_ at the back of the theatre, waiting in a secluded corner under night sky. His brows were furrowed, he didn’t give a bow when Izaya fixed his ruby eyes to him and smirked a little.

-‘’ You couldn’t hold your _words_, right?- ‘’ Haruya tied his arms on his chest; ‘’- There is _one_ aikido school around this town, Hitori-san. There are already rumours, people will understand. ‘’ The other opened his mouth to reply back, but Haruya stopped him and continued;

‘’ You don’t understand, and I have to confess; _I don’t think I understand what you’re trying to do either._ ‘’

Izaya’s brows furrowed on the remark; ‘’- The thing that creates the _makura_ is not what the rakugo-ka _understands_, Haruya-san. It’s what the rakugo-ka _sees_. ‘’

Haruya lowered his eyes to the green grass and shaked his head; ‘’- Not that. You don’t understand _me. ‘’_ _My purpose. _On that, Izaya waited. Haruya bit his bottom lip, prepared his words, then lifted his gaze to the stars for a brief second;

‘’- Then let me tell you in a way that would please ears; _It’s been a long time since my heart stopped beating, Izaya-san._ My being is no longer accessible, it’s merely _a shell;_ I exist, yes, but only because my sister is alive. ‘’ _Said, the spring; ‘I am a decedent in the breath I take’ he said._

_ The moonlight raged, _Izaya walked to the shamisen player and placed his right hand onto his chest, his fingers curling on the dark brown fabric;

‘’- Your heart is beating, Haruya. ‘’ In movements completely opposite of the other’s manner, Haruya placed his knuckles under Izaya’s chin and drew his face closer, for him to see it for himself;

‘’- Look into my eyes, and try to say that again. ‘’ As told, Izaya looked into his eyes as his breathing became ragged from anger. _But he couldn’t say it._ He couldn’t say it, because Haruya really looked like a mere shell where the surging waves were echoing inside.

But a rakugo-ka could never be left _wordless_;

_‘’- It’s not about whether or not your heart beats; it’s about for whom it dares the others, Haruya. It’s about whether or not it has the courage to answer back a long, long hidden love. ‘’_

_‘ Ah..' The shamisen player understood; ' That was the matter then..’ _Forcing the hand on his chest down, Haruya turned to leave; ‘’- I need to go now. _O-tsukare sama deshita, Hitori-san._ ‘’

Izaya almost choked in the wail he had under his voice; ‘’- No! You’re right, people understood. ‘’ He ran and stood in front of him, blocking his way. ''- You.. shouldn't go his way_._ You might get hurt.'' 

Haruya put a hand to the side of his shoulder;

‘’- I will not. Now- ‘’ He really didn’t want to push him to the side, but he did, and walked past him.

_‘ Haruya ‘_ _The moonlight_ spoke after him, and its voice was the silk string on Haruya’s shamisen that broke an hour ago. So he let a breath out and stopped for a moment;

‘’- If you’re so worried about me, _despite being the one who put me into this situation,_ then meet me at my house in couple of hours- ‘’ He pointed the left side of the road; ‘’- It’s the third house down the neighborhood. Let’s talk about this long, long hidden love of yours, shall we? ‘’

* * *

Three hours later, the rakugo-ka was in front of the entrance of the said house. He saw a little girl playing with circular rocks at the wooden _engawa_. There was satisfying amount of greenery around, accompanying a small osakazuki tree. The girl could be seven or eight years old at most.

He approached her and gave a little bow of his head; ‘’- I suppose you are Haruya-san’s sister? ‘’ When she saw him, she stood up. After giving a bow, she nodded and introduced herself;

‘’- I am Shiki _Akiko_. _Yoroshiku onegai shimasu_, rakugoka-san. ‘’ Izaya was slightly taken aback by her manner being _years _ahead of her estimated age. Giving a polite smile, he sat next to her; ‘’- _Aki no ko_, child of autumn, huh..’’ She sat next to him on her knees, and Izaya asked; ‘’- Tell me, Akiko, do you enjoy rakugo? ‘’ She answered while placing the white rocks on top of each other;

-‘’ I enjoy it very much, rakugoka-san. ‘’  
-‘’ Hm.. then maybe you would want to learn some plays too? ‘’ Izaya smirked and looked at her. However, the child gave him a blank look;  
-‘’ I am afraid that would not be suitable- ‘’ The rocks fell, making a sound on wood of the veranda; ‘’- I am a woman, and woman shouldn’t do rakugo. ‘’ Izaya threw a hand to the air;  
-‘’ Who cares? Besides, the times are changing. I have a feeling that in couple of decades women will surpass men at rakugo, and other arts too probably. ‘’ The girl didn’t look at him;  
-‘’ My brother is waiting inside, rakugoka-san. ‘’

On that, Izaya gave a little sigh; ‘’- You really are like him, _Aki no ko_.. ‘’ He then stood up and dragging the bamboo door open, went inside. 

He found Haruya at the farthest room. The moonlight was filling the room through the small window, there was only one candle lit inside the room. Haruya seemed to be attaching a new string to his shamisen; ‘’- Please don’t tempt my sister into being a rakugo-ka, Hitori-san. While I am sure she could do it very well, one corrupt person is enough for a family..’’ He jokingly said, tying the new string to the instrument. He then took the polishing cloth and cleaned the skin.

Izaya sat down, eyeing him to see if he was hurt in any way; ‘’- One learns to use the diaphragm while learning the art of storytelling. I thought it would help her lungs. Her breathing really doesn’t sound well.. ‘’

Haruya’s hands stopped at neck of the instrument; ‘’- I am aware-‘’ He then continued his work; ‘’- Many doctors have seen her. But this condition is.. hereditary. It took our mother from us, and now her..’’ His voice quietened and his brows furrowed, he brought the instrument to his knees and briefly tuned it for the string to adjust as fast as possible.

-‘’ Do you suffer from it too? ‘’ Izaya asked, Haruya shaked his head and put the instrument away;  
-‘’ Mine is not as severe, as long as I don’t get a cold or stress myself so much. ‘’ He walked and sat onto one of the cushions in front of the open window; ‘’- And I must say, you’re not helping. ‘’ Finally, he pointed the cushion across him for his guest to sit. Now they were face to face. Haruya put his one hand onto the other;  
-‘’ Now, tell me rakugoka-san. _When did the first leaf fall? _‘’ Even though he wasn’t smiling, his eyes were enough for the storyteller to understand he was okay, and wasn’t angry. So he too, joined his hands on his bent thighs and answered, his smile attracting even more light from the moon;

‘’- It was the third day of my apprenticeship. As a _minarai_, I was told to sit and watch the master storytellers who were going to be on the stage that day. But then I saw you in the crowd_, and the first leaf fell._ I suppose the woman next to you was your mother? ‘’ Haruya nodded and spoke;

‘’- _So all these years you sat watching the leaves fall from the tree that is your daring heart. _I appreciate it, that is a dedication I could never bring myself into. ‘’ On that, Izaya’s smile thinned to a sad one, he lowered his head a little;

‘’- _Your dedication is more pertinent and stronger than mine._ You just want your sister to heal; I am sorry about my behavior earlier. I..couldn’t deal with what I’ve seen under the _osakazuki_ tree..‘’

‘’- I understand, and I forgive you. But- ‘’ _The storyteller lifted his palm in a sudden move and stopped him_. With all the stories he’s learned _by heart_, he knew what was to come. He squeezed his eyes shut, some tears immediately ran down to his cheeks;

‘’- Please don’t say it. ‘’

‘’- I have to. ‘’ He drew a little closer to him, and gently wiped away the tears on his lashes;

‘’- _You have to cut that tree, Hitori-no-rakugoka-san._ Because the man in front of you is no longer the child you’ve seen at the last row of seats at the old theatre-‘’ He put a kiss to his forehead, and his one hand waited at the back of his hair; ‘’- That child had his innocence. He was graceful, and dignified. But this man, Hitori, has long lost all of that. Therefore, he is hardly proper for an admirable, talented rakugo master like you. Do you understand me? ‘’

But the other shaked his head vigorously like a child, and came even closer, now they were knee to knee;

‘’_\- I belong to the garden of your forearms, Haruya-‘_’ His fingers hid under the sleeves of the other’s kimono and warmed up there; ‘’- Don’t tell me to cut the tree I’ve raised so hard for all these years.. I’ve put every leaf one by one for every distant silhouette of your fingers playing the shamisen for my stories. Please..’’

‘’ – _The garden is torn apart_. You’ve seen it, I showed you. ‘’

_Silence. They continued to sit across each other on their knees, the kneecaps touching. Then the rakugoka extended his palms to the river, and the water separated on each other’s wrists. Like thin branches of trees searching company in winter, they leaned to each other’s shoulder; Taking in fragrances right under black hair, neck._

_They untied the belts of each other’s kimono simultaneously; as if the intercourse was with the time itself; Truly being each other’s; Time needs to intertwine._

_Material and materialistic slipped down onto the creaky floor, and now shoulders bare, they took in the scenery of each other’s skin; The Spring lowered his head, he smiled._

_The moonlight had fingers gleaming in a soft white beam, and how beautiful it was as he brought the child of the early spring back, alive;_

-‘’ _There is no shame. ‘’ He said._  
_ -‘’ My being is shame. ‘’ He said._  
_ -‘’ Who dares? ‘’ He asked, there was no answer._

_‘’- Who dares to imply? ‘’ The storyteller asked once more, then laid him down onto the floor; _

_‘’- Who silenced the first nightingale of the spring? Who took your songs away, Haruya? ‘’_

_A string broke. The shamisen at the corner weeped a lament. _

_‘’- Shame. ‘’ He answered. _

_The spring broke through, and flowered into the night, for one last time-_

_And took the moonlight to the garden of his forearms._

_The sound of cicadas._

* * *

_Winter;_

When Haruya fell ill, Izaya canceled all his shows for that week and stayed by his side. Even though it was a simple cold, it triggered an asthma attack where he laid in fever and struggled for every breath. Izaya was going to spend nights listening to his wheezing breath and applying a cool, wet washcloth to his tired skin;

-‘’ He hasn’t opened his eyes in two days, Shinra- ‘’ Izaya put the formalities aside and referred his doctor friend by his first name; ‘’- But he is going to be okay, right? ‘’ _Doctor Kishtani Shinra_ listened the young man’s breathing for a while, then answered;  
-‘’ His lungs are really weak, Izaya-kun. But if he can manage to overcome this fever, I think he will be okay. ‘’ He then turned to his leather medical-bag and took out some bottles. Izaya has specifically called him from the capital since he knew he was an expert in _Kampo_ medicine. He wiped away the sweat on the currently unconscious shamisen player’s forehead and waited quietly as his friend prepared a medicine that hopefully was going to make him breathe without fighting violently.

While mixing the medicine, the doctor’s eye catched onto something; Putting the ingredient bowl aside for a moment, he extended his hand to the right sleeve of Haruya’s thin wear, and sweeped it upwards. His brown eyes immediately met with his friend’s ruby-red ones. However, the rakugo-ka put an index finger to his lips and quietened him.

Shinra sighed and turned back to his work; _‘’- I see.. okay..’’_

‘’- This will ease the pressure on his chest…’’ After the procedure was done, Shinra wrote down a list of ingredients and meals and gave it to Izaya; ‘’- After his fever, _hopefully_, goes down, he will need to gain his strength back..’’

‘’- Ne, Shinra.. He has a sister. She’s at the next room. Would you check her too, just in case? ‘’

‘’ Of course. ‘’

\----------------------------------------------------------------

When the night came, Haruya was still lying unconscious, but the storyteller could see he was breathing more easily. The light bamboo door was dragged open, the child of the autumn, _Akiko_, showed her face and examined his brother without coming into the room. Izaya smiled at her;

-‘’ He’s breathing more comfortably. You can hear it. ‘’ Akiko nodded;  
-‘’ _Izaya-nii-san_, please hold his hand. ‘’ Putting the washcloth away, Izaya lifted a brow, but did as she said; putting his hand lightly on top of Haruya’s cold one; ‘’- Like this? ‘’

Akiko brought her small hands together in the Buddhist prayer form and closed her eyes; ‘’- I will pray to Buddha-sama for you two to be together in your next lives too; _and happier. ‘’ _

* * *

‘’- I will be back as soon as possible, okay, Akiko? ‘’ Izaya was called to a gathering with the elderly of the theatre. He could easily guess it was about his cancellations and overall absence in the past four days, but he had to go nonetheless..

Akiko has been busying herself playing with rocks at the veranda when she heard her brother’s gravelly voice calling for her. The walls were thin. She quickly got up, dragging the bamboo door, she sticked her head into the room he was in.

Haruya turned his head saw her through his watery eyes; ‘’- Akiko? ‘’

‘’- I am here nii-san. Izaya-nii-san had to go to a meeting at the theatre. He told me not to go into this room or I might catch a cold too..’’

Haruya gulped; ‘’- Yes, don’t come here. You just.. _stay_ there-‘’ As soon as he finished his sentence he got into a coughing fit. He brought his hand to a bone on the left side of his chest, it hurt _so _much.

‘’- Okay. But let me get my rocks here-‘’ With that, Akiko quickly catched her white rocks from the veranda and returned to her initial place behind the half-open door. After a while, she talked;

-‘’ Ne.. nii-san. I can sing for you if you want? ‘’ She offered.  
-‘’ Would you? ‘’ Releasing his head onto the pillow, Haruya asked. The child gave a sound indicating a _‘yes’_;  
-‘’ You don’t sing to me anymore, but I can sing for you. Just this once- ‘’ She smirked and put a finger up to her face; ‘’ Which song would you want me to sing? ‘’  
-‘’ You know which. ‘’

Nodding her head, Akiko lined the rocks side-to-side and held a rhythm as if playing a drum;

_ ‘ O yama no o-yama no hosomichi wa.. dare dare tooru, dare tooru…’ _She sang for a while, but then stopped at the third verse and looked at her brother hiding his face with the back of his right hand on his eyes. Her brows furrowed a little;

_ -‘’ _Why are you crying o-nii-san? ‘’ Haruya gave a little _'tsch'_ sound;  
_ -‘’ _I am not crying, I am laughing. ‘’ On that, Akiko pouted a little, it reflected to her voice;  
_ -‘’ _Don’t lie to me. Then why are you laughing? ‘’

_The child of the spring_ brought the thickened tips of his fingers to the tears threathening to drizzle to the sides of his temples, and didn’t let her sister see, how much it all hurt;

‘’- Neither mom, nor I could manage to teach you the proper intonation. That’s why.. ‘’ He said, then turned opposite her to lie on his side. With a great effort, he pulled the blanket onto himself and sticked his face to the fabric of the pillow;

‘’- Thank you. ‘’

Akiko closed the door and went outside, taking her white rocks with her;

_‘’- As if you can fool Akiko, nii-san.. ‘’_ She talked to herself on the way.

* * *

When Izaya came back from the meeting at theatre, he found Akiko blocking the hallway of the room where Haruya was. With her hands open side-to-side, she looked like a miniature doll. The rakugo-ka lifted his brows; ‘’- Ah.. So I can’t pass? ‘’ Seeing she was upset, he crouched in front of her, and tucked a piece of stubborn hair to the back of her ear. Akiko didn’t lower her hands and pouted;

‘’- I sang to him, now he is crying, rakugoka-san. Please don’t go to his room, he would want to be alone. ’’ She then extended a hand to him, and held his hand; ‘’- I changed my mind about rakugo. Would you teach me a play? ‘’

Hitori smiled; ‘’- Of course. ‘’ With that, they went back outside to the wooden veranda.

The walls were thin. Akiko and Hitori sat across each other; ‘’- Now, watch me and pay attention to my gestures and how I breathe, okay, Akiko-chan? You don’t immediately have to memorise the narration. ‘’ She nodded. After giving a seated bow, the rakugo-ka started;

_‘’- When spring comes to the city of Edo, to be the first one to hear the song of a nightingale is truly a matter of boast and pride.. It is believed that whoever hears the nightingale first, that person’s business would go well and he would be prosperous for that particular year…’’ _

The night fell, it was after that the walls showed some mercy and stopped echoing torment into the rakugoka’s ears. Ending the narration, he put his red fan down in front of him;

-‘’ I sometimes think your brother holds an entire river inside his chest, Akiko-chan..’’ The girl replied;  
-‘’ Funny.. I always thought he held a sea. ‘’

* * *

When he went inside, Izaya found him sitting by the open window, looking at the freshly forming stars. Him being out of the _futon_ was a good sign, Izaya went and sat next to him; ‘’- Waa, Haruya-sama is finally up and awake! ‘’

He didn’t look good. It was as if all the years he hasn’t even lived yet merged into the ones he somehow dragged himself through, and it all fell to his under-eyes. He put his head onto Izaya’s shoulder, his thin black hair gently separated on the thick fabric of the rakugo-ka’s wear. He spoke quietly to not exaggerate the scratching in his throat; ‘’- I saw my mother. She wants me to come by her side, Izaya..’’

Izaya took his left hand and rubbed his thumb on where his wrist connected to his hand, and then slided to the hollow of his palm; ‘’- But Akiko-chan is still here..’’

Haruya moved his fingers and wrapped the hand who’s been relentlessly trying to heal not only his sickness, but his heart too; ‘’- Yes, I told her that. ‘’ After that, Izaya let a peaceful sigh out, and lifting his eyes to the moon, he recited a haiku of gratitude and melancholy;

_ ‘ U no hana mo, haha naki yado zo, susamajiki..’_

_‘ The garden flowers, without Mother at the house, how dreadful..’ _

* * *

_Autumn;_

While tying the gray-red belt to his dark red kimono, the rakugo-ka thought about tonight’s performance where he was expected tell his stories to some military officials and their wives. Turning, he opened a drawer and took his folding fan and red cloth. For some reason unknown, a haiku that he learned in his early years of apprenticeship fell into his mind. There was an uneasy feeling on his chest. Putting a hand _there_, he let a breath out, then walked to the window and dragged it open;

_The moon, as always, shone with a pearl white illumination._ He recited the haiku; _‘ Akai tsubaki, shiroi tsubaki to, ochinikeri- ‘_

_‘ The red camellia, have fallen down, with the white camellia. ‘_

He then heard crowded voices coming from the street down. Before he turned and called his student to ask about it, his student went into the room; his eyes wide and breathing erratic;

He didn’t give a bow; ‘’- Hitori-sensei, Haruya-san’s sister..’’ He didn’t need to complete the sentence; Hitori was already out of the room to the street. He passed off the bows and greetings given to him and found the oldest _ohayashi-san_, _Hanako_, crying silently in front of the third house down the road. The rakugoka went to her side;

-‘’ Where is Haruya, Hanako-san? ‘’ She hid her face to her pink cloth;  
-‘’ I saw him walking towards the forest..’’

So he ran, as much as his attire let him; He passed the crunchy sounds of the dry bushes underneath his feet and the trees, and stopped in a certain distance to the hill of the _osakazuki_ tree. The tree was now swaying gently with the autumn wind. Izaya saw Haruya’s shamisen leaned to the tree, and his breathing accelerated even more. He quickly climbed the hill; He could see where he was from there.

He didn’t need to search a lot. His red eyes couldn’t miss the figure walking slowly among the trees, with a pristine white kimono on him.

The rakugo-ka yelled; _‘’- Haruya! ‘’_

* * *

_‘ O yama no, o yama no hosomichi wa.. dare dare tooru, dare tooru?’ _The shamisen player didn’t become aware of the man running to him with all his might, until he wailed his name to the night; _‘ Haruya ‘_

He stopped singing and turned to him;

‘’- I didn’t see you behind me. Good evening, rakugoka-san. Don’t you have a show right now? ‘’ Trembling from head to toe from effort and fear, Izaya dropped his eyes to the red rope and the knife on Haruya’s hands;

-‘’ What is this, Haruya? What are you planning to do-‘’ _Then the early spring smiled to him_, and Izaya froze right there;  
-‘’ _It’s only appropriate._ Now that my sister is gone. ‘’ _Serenity _dripped from the curve of his smile as he talked. Izaya drew closer and pulled the rope from his hands and threw it onto a bush; ‘’- What appropriateness? Don’t be absurd. ‘’ He was smiling too now, his was shaky.

Haruya put his shapely fingers onto the young rakugoka’s cheek and looked at him with all the love left in the deep, eternal seas; ‘’- Don’t worry. I prayed, rakugoka-san; I prayed for an another life. A life of honour and dignity- ‘’ Pushing with his thumb, he slowly let the sheath of the knife fell, and it shone under moonlight; ‘’- and a life with you. ‘’

‘’- No-‘’ Izaya catched his wrist. _A yellow and red leaf fell from the osakazuki tree._ The knife cut through the shamisen player’s one brow as Izaya struggled to take it from his hand. When successful, he got rid of the knife too;

‘’- _What is honour? _What is dignity, Haruya? Does the honour belong to the generals currently waiting at theatre and planning a war? And If dignity will not belong to the man who surrendered himself to nights of unspeakable desires_, just to help his sister_; Then who will it belong to? ‘’ He yelled the last sentence, and held onto his white kimono, his breath staggering just like his being.

Haruya closed the eye where the blood seeped down, and wrapped his arms around the storyteller. Izaya too, responded back, and in tears, they lowered down onto their knees;

-‘’ I am sorry. ‘’  
-‘’ What? ‘’

With a one last exhale, Haruya’s weight fell onto him. _The garden was torn, and the spring was no more._ The rakugoka didn’t dare to breathe, the curve of his lip stretched to a frightened smile of a child awakened by a nightmare; _‘’ Haru? ‘’_ He called, there was no answer. 

He laid him down under moonlight; _‘ Haru no ko..’_ he said, and wiped the blood on his face away. Something fell from his unclenched right hand started swirling on the dark grass. Leaning, Izaya catched it;

_The first nightingale of the spring was silenced by a little bottle of poison._

In tears, the rakugo-ka breathed out one last haiku;

_‘ Aki no ko ya, haru no yuuyake, shiroi ame..’_

‘’- I no longer have the hands that play the shamisen, so beautifully, for my stories; _I can no longer do rakugo_. ‘’ He said to the night wind, and pulling the cap open in a swift move, he drank the last bit of the bitter liquid inside. Stagnant; the wind calmed down; _The osakazuki tree sat next to the shamisen and watched the red camellia slide down next to the white camellia. _

_The child of the moon laid next to the white wolf and prayed; _

_‘ Please let me be by his side, please let me be by his side, please let me be by his side-‘_

_‘ Child of the autumn, sunset of the spring, the white rain. ‘ _

_The mother wind came, and took the lovers into her arms-_

The sound of cicadas.

.

.

.

.

.

-‘’ Oi, Izaya, are you listening? ‘’ A sudden cold wrapped the informant Orihara Izaya and made him shiver. He told the taxi driver to turn the AC down a little, and returned to the phone;  
-‘’ Yes, Kine-san. I am listening. ‘’  
-‘’ Alright so.. Like I said, you’re going to work with Shiki-san from now on. Uh.. I can say he’s a nice guy; Word plays and clever jokes are alright with him as long as you don’t be disrespectful. And don’t try to push him, he’s one of those people who prefer _calmness_, and with _that _you’d know you shouldn’t mess with him. ‘’ Izaya noted;  
-‘’ I see.. then this is a farewell I suppose. It was a learning experience to be working with you, Kine-san. Thank you for all the things you’ve helped me with over the years. ‘’  
-‘’ Yeah, even though you’re a know-it-all kid and were insufferable from time to time, I learned a lot from you too, Izaya-kun. Good luck. ‘’

After the phone call, Izaya told the taxi driver to drive to the _Suehirotei Rakugo Theatre_ in Shinjuku.

* * *

_‘’- We’re in spring but it’s already this hot in city..’’_ While observing the people entering the theatre to watch the next rakugo play, the yakuza executive talked to himself, fixing his white suit jacket. He had an interest in rakugo too, but it was weird for the informant to choose a theatre, of all places, for a first meeting place. Seeing the taxi, he straightened from the lightlamp he’s been leaning and went to greet the young man named Orihara Izaya.

It was simple. He just had to put that mischievous smirk on, introduce himself, and give a daring and smart first impression. But the moment he left the taxi and stood in front of the man wearing a white suit, with eyes sharp like a wolf; he just.. stood. There, under the warm orange and red lights of the theatre entrance, the warm brown eyes sank into the red ones. A wind ran past them, just the two of them, in all this crowd;

-‘’ While I am flattered, I don’t think I am _that_ handsome, Orihara-san- ‘’ The yakuza executive spoke, giving a sincere smile that accentuated the lines near his eyes; ‘’- Or is it the scar taking your attention? ‘’ He pointed the scar on his right brow. Orihara Izaya took a shaky breath in and turned his head to the passing traffic with it’s tricolor lights;  
-‘’ Forgive my rudeness, Shiki-san.. I am not sure what is this feeling going through me at the moment. ‘’

The executive’s smile didn’t break even as he stared at the tears gently falling down from the young man’s face. He huffed a laugh and searched his suit jacket ‘s inner pocket to take out a silk cloth;

‘’- Here-‘’ He extended the red cloth with a chrysanthemum embroidered on it. The other accepted and mumbled a thank you. Shiki clenched his hands at his back and gazed at the stars on top of them; ‘’- You know.. my mother used to tell me that when a person re-meets with a person who was dear to him in one of his past lives, the kind of thing you’re experiencing right now could happen. _Maybe we had a past together, Orihara-san._ ‘’

‘’- Do you think so..’’ A forlorn smile passed the informant’s features as he stared at the chrysanthemum flower on his palm.

‘’- Now, if you’re calmer, shall we go inside? It would be inappropriate to make a rakugoka wait. ‘’ With that, they went in, their seats were _on the last row._

The rakugo-ka had soft features on his aged face. He placed a red folding fan in front of him, and greeted the audience by giving a seated bow;

He started the show; ‘’- Many people think it’s the summer breeze which brings melancholy to one’s soul, dear audience, but I have to say; What is sadder but beautiful than a breeze of a long awaited spring? Tonight, with your permission, I would like to tell a tragic story. This story was passed to me by my master, and it is about his first teacher, _Hitori-no-rakugoka-san, and a male shamisen player he fell in love with.._’’

_‘’- When spring comes to the city of Edo, to be the first one to hear the song of a nightingale is truly a matter of boast and pride.. It is believed that whoever hears the nightingale first, that person’s business would go well and he would be prosperous for that particular year…’’_

By the end of the play, a mellow tranquility was fallen to the hearts of the rakugo audience currently leaving the theatre. During the play the two didn’t talk, or looked at each other. Shiki Haruya let a breath out as he stared at the empty stage;

-‘’ Do you believe in reincarnation, Shiki-san? ‘’ Orihara Izaya asked, they were at the theatre seats, unmoving as the crowd passed them.

-‘’ While I enjoyed my mother tell stories about it, I can’t say it makes much sense to me, Orihara-san..’’

On that, the informant let out a chuckle and extended the red cloth to the yakuza executive, for him to wipe his tears off with.

_Ikebukuro was truly a city of miracles.._

**Author's Note:**

> Please approach after putting down the gun, yeah, thank you so much. Uh.. explanation time;
> 
> The White Rain; The last line of the last haiku Hitori reads and the title of this story (which, how is my haiku lol); Here, rain symbolises death. It is white, because it directly refers to the moment Haruya's weight falls to the other's arms. As mentioned, Haruya is wearing a white kimono. (also, white suit, right? eheh)
> 
> The number three; You saw that first; Haruya told he wished for an another life where he would be the 'corrupt guy', then Akiko prayed for the two of them to be 'happy'. Finally, Izaya told the third prayer. The number three is a pattern goes throughout the story. Like.. Haruya's three attemps to..uh..'' Do the appropriate thing '' Three ways to tell the story of the Shinigami. The third house down the street.. The third verse that Akiko didn't sang. But why three; '' 三味線 '' The word shamisen's first kanji is: Three, since the instrument has three strings.
> 
> Now.. rakugo holds a big part in this story; and rakugo really makes people think. So I put some things in this story to make the reader think too; '' What is honor? '' After reincarnation, Haruya becomes a yakuza (and they put importance to honor, but really, what is honour???). Shame, Dignity, Honour, who decides what is appropriate? However, these terms might not have the desired effect on the reader if they're not from Japan, so I understand if it wasn't really interesting. 
> 
> Hitori; ' Fire Bird ' what is a fire bird? A phoenix; which is the symbol of reincarnation. Also the line '' Truly being each other’s; Time needs to intertwine. '' Was referring to reincarnation too; As in.. being eternal lovers. :')  
and there are like.. little things with the story not having a 'spring scene' until the reincarnation..  
Oh, the song Akiko sings and Haruya sings :') is the fourth one in the playlist I linked.
> 
> I don't know.. I hope it was good, I myself enjoyed creating it. If there is anything you're wondering, I am here.


End file.
